Alaska Twilight (36 page)

Clutching the necklace in her palm, she shouldered the backpack, then lifted the child into her arms. Holding the toddler on her right hip with her right arm steadying her, she picked up the car seat and went through the trees back to the road.

She set her feet on the deserted road and began to walk in the direction she’d been traveling. An owl hooted from a tree overhead, and other night sounds rustled in the brush. Were there bears here? Wolves? She tried to quicken her pace, but she was weak and unsteady.

Her breath fogged the air, but carrying the little girl warmed her. One bare foot in front of the other. Where were her shoes? There were no lights in the distance to beckon her, but desire to protect the child drove her. Her ears rang, and it was all she could do to hang on to her senses.

She glanced behind and froze. Headlights loomed. They weren’t there the last time she looked. The vehicle was nearly on top of her. She tried to step back into the shelter of the trees, but the vehicle rolled to a stop and a woman’s voice called out.

“Are you okay? Do you need a ride?”

Her knees nearly buckled. It wasn’t a man. The woman sounded worried. And friendly.

The woman exited the car and gasped as she rounded the hood. “You’ve got a child. What are you doing walking out here alone? And barefoot?” She took the car seat and set it by the Jeep. “You don’t have a coat.”

The welcome dome light spilled onto the pavement. A small boy peered from the backseat. Red hair like the woman. Maybe seven years old or so. A dog, a mutt mixture that looked part German shepherd, stuck its head out the window and barked.

A family. Tears welled in her eyes. Thank God. “I’d be grateful for a ride,” she said.

“I’m Bree Matthews.” Bree’s gaze went to the lump on her head. “You’re bleeding. I’d better get you to the hospital.”

“It’s not that bad. I just need to find a hotel or something.” She gulped. “I . . . I don’t have any money though,” she stammered. “I lost my purse.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Bree said. “What’s your name?” She opened the rear hatch, reached in, and pulled out a blanket.

Would Bree think she was crazy? She had to risk it, since her head hurt too badly to make up something. “I . . . I don’t know. I can’t remember. My head hurts so much.” Her stomach rebelled, but she managed to swallow the bile that burned her throat. She set the little girl down, took the blanket Bree held out, and draped it around herself.

“We need to get you to the doctor.” Bree opened the passenger door. “Here, sit down.”

Panic burned brighter in her chest. “No hospital.” She took her daughter’s hand and began to walk away, then stumbled and went down on one knee.

Bree knelt beside her and put an arm around her, helping her rise. “It’s okay. I’ve got a friend who’s a doctor. He’ll come to my home.”

The young woman wasn’t very big, maybe five-three, but she possessed a reassuring sense of strength. “Where am I?”

“Just outside Rock Harbor. The west side of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.” Bree reached under the blanket, took one strap of the backpack, and began to ease it off her shoulders. “We’ll sort this out in the morning. You and your little girl are about to drop. I’ve got room at my house. Let me help you.”

Tears sprang from her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. Maybe she could find a safe harbor there for a few days. If she could just sleep, maybe her memory would come back.